In The End
by David William Cooper
Summary: It's the end of days...and Jericho must stop the Anti-Christ with a little help from the X-Files agents...(End of Days/X-Files Crossover!)
1. Chapter One: Time Is On My Side

Title: In The End  
  
Author: David William Cooper  
  
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)  
  
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship  
  
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.  
  
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...  
  
Feedback: Please...I love it.  
  
Archive: Just ask.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!  
  
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***  
  
In The End  
  
By  
  
David William Cooper  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
Time Is On My Side  
  
  
  
Jericho Cane Residence  
  
New York City  
  
Thursday, December The Twenty Third  
  
In the darkened room of his downtown apartment, Jericho Cane sat alone. He was doing his normal morning ritual. He hated his life. It was shit. It was going nowhere. He was tired of being the low man on Totem Pole. So he would wake up and in the dark he would take his standard issue Beretta and point the muzzle at his temperal plate. He would wait about thirty seconds and then take it off. God how he hated being a New York City cop. It wasn't the job, really, but the half ass shit he got stuck with! He was always stuck with the bumfuck jobs like guarding some Wall Street hot shot or some movie director no one has ever heard of. Who gives a damn, now days? Really? He sighed and let the gun drop into his lap. Just one more week. Then it would be the new millennium and maybe then his life would be better -- but that was still to be seen -- and maybe he would actually meet someone, someone he would get along with and could love. But that was about as possible as the world coming to a bitter end at the moment the clock stuck midnight and it was no longer 1999, but 2000. He wasn't really too worried, after all it was just some big gimmick scare to get people to but shit and send the companies into the economic rise. That's all it was...all it would ever be, and even in the future they might -- probably would -- do the same bullshit.  
  
The worst part was he wouldn't really quit. He needed the money. His apartment was already in the bad part of town and most of the gang bangers knew he was a cop and they used that to their advantage. They wouldn't blackmail him, no, but they would do him favors and he would do them some. It was a "you help me, I help you" relationship and Jericho was too damn numb from the shit he had to put up with for most of his life to really give a damn and he went with it. It was his way of keeping his place there and not half was to Mexico by the time he came home from work. He would then have to splatter some poor and unfortunate fucks brains all over the pavement. And the last time that happened it was one of his ex-partners. He loved that guy like a brother, but in the end that didn't matter to Rondell. It was just all the more reason to take one more cop off the streets. And promote business, even if he was helping him. In a sense. Jericho and Anthony Marsman were always the brotheresque and wild cops who never really followed protocol. The kind that one would think was Dirty, but would have no real way to prove it.  
  
It was not that long ago...when Anthony died. He was shot by Rondell in a shoot out that was not supposed to be. They were going in to give him some Blow that they'd picked up on a bust from another local dealer that was an arch enemy to Rondell. They'd promised him that they would get him some for sale and to use on his own -- he really liked his Blow -- and they would get information. But things didn't play out like that. No...they went wrong the moment that Cane and Marsman walked into the door. Rondell had some of his hommies' over and they didn't know that Cane was on their side, they just knew he was a Pig and would needed to taken down. So when they walked in with the Blow, one of his cronies jumped up and drew his ZMG. Bullets flew across the room in a heated battle that left three dead. Both of Rondell's men and Marsman. When he was shot, he dropped to the ground quickly, but Jericho was too busy fighting the other two -- Rondell and his cronies -- and was behind a wall. The sound of the bullets smashing into the wall was Hell. Jericho would never forget what happened that unforsaken day. After the other guy was down, he ran to Marsman's side and held his head up as he coughed up blood and said his last words to Jericho.  
  
"Tell my girlfriend...that...I love her...brother..."  
  
"I will." said Jericho, righting back the tears. He had never loved another man as much as he'd loved Marsman and he blamed himself for his death. After his partner was dead, he walked up to Rondell. Rondell threw his hands up in the air and waved them around as if to say he was sorry, but that wouldn't cut it with Cane. He didn't give a fuck that Rondell had a girl, nor did he care that he still had his Blow. He just didn't. He drew his knife and he slammed Rondell into the glass case that held most of his family pictures and valuables.  
  
"Listen and listen good, Rondell. You ever...come back around here...ever...and I will kill your pathetic ass. You hear me? Do you!?" he shouted, driving the knife into his neck deeper and deeper, drawing a thin line of blood around his neck. Rondell was too panicked to say anything, and just winked his eyes in confirmation. He was trying to get Jericho off of his ass, but that didn't seem to happen. He was too Hell bent on avenging his partner's death, but he knew that killing Rondell wouldn't change anything.  
  
"Get the hell outta my city, punk." he said, throwing his bloody ass to the ground. Rondell scrambled to get up, but Jericho -- in pure hate and anger -- kicked him and he fell to his knee's and gasped for air. He coughed up some more blood and then got up and ran out. The sound of crunching glass could be heard. Jericho got on the horn and called in some medics and when they came he explained everything that went down, but what he did to Rondell. His ploy was that he ran off. Which was taken to be word and no questions were asked about the broken glass...or the blood.  
  
As Jericho was thinking back upon that unforsaken day...his new partner and a good friend of his since college entered his apartment. He crept in, knowing damn well that Jericho was never anyone to avoid a shoot out now. He made his way to the living room where he was sitting in the dark, gun in lap and eyes closed. He walked over to the window and opened the vanilla blinds. Steams of light swam in and greeted his dark adapted eyes. He squinted and snickered.  
  
"Better and better everyday."  
  
"You got that right, Mr.. Cane." said his partner, David Branis.  
  
"Heh. Want some breakfast, just getting ready to make some?" said Jericho, making his way over to his kitchen. He was full of glum and it was a slow trek. Branis noticed this and knew he didn't need a hell of a time. He got to his kitchen and took out some various shit. A coffee grind, some M&M's, chocolate candy bar, and even some Slim Fast and threw it in. He even looked in his broken light fridge and found some left over pizza and threw that in. Hit it on, and let the blender grind and chop. He looked over at Dave.  
  
"Want some?"  
  
"I'll pass."  
  
"Okay, have it your way." he said, stopping it and bringing the goop that was inside to his lips and downing it. He did that on a normal basis and was ready for the horrid taste, which really didn't bother him as much as it had a couple of years ago. And now...as he looked out over the alive city of New York, he actually appreciated what Rondell did...he showed him that he needed to be a son of a bitch and get his point across...the right way, or no way at all. And that would play a good part of his life. 


	2. Chapter Two: Beginnings

Title: In The End  
  
Author: David William Cooper  
  
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)  
  
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship  
  
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.  
  
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...  
  
Feedback: Please...I love it.  
  
Archive: Just ask.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!  
  
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Beginnings  
  
FBI Headquarters  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
Thursday, December The Twenty Third  
  
Special Agent John Jay Doggett hated this time of the year. To work on the day before Christmas Eve was a sin! Who the hell in their right mind would do such a stupid thing? He wasn't an ass, and he wasn't a stupid fuck, but here he was, all alone in his office on the second floor of the FBI...on the day before Christmas Eve. Why? Because he had nothing better to do? No, he was called in to work a case with some bitch from New Orleans. He was hoping that it was Monica Reyes, but he wasn't all that sure. Assistant Director Kersh didn't say who he was being paired up with and to be paired with someone from a field office when your own partner was sick...that was just odd. He'd welcome Monica, but no one else. He had a strong connection to her -- or at least that is what he thought. She was beautiful. Five foot six, brunette hair, heavenly blue eyes, and nice firm breasts. She was the ideal woman for him, and that was no question. She was also brilliant and sweet. She looked like a Goddess but that never got to her head. She was in fact quite level headed. And he liked that. He knew that if she'd rejected to work with him or even to go out and get some coffee...he'd be fucked for the rest of his sorry life.  
  
They met about a year ago when he found out that his son, Luke, was taken. They called in the FBI and she was the agent that came and lead the task force that helped find John's son. At that time he was still New York Police, but soon after -- within two weeks -- the FBI had called him and asked him if he'd like to have a position as a Special Agent. He leapt at it. After all he'd been through...the loss of his own son...and the murder of his ex-wife, Barbra...he needed a chance to get back on track, and what better way then to join the FBI? It was a sullen morning when he had gotten the call. His wife was in the kitchen and he was still in bed -- back then he didn't get up much before six in the morning to go to work, when the phone rang. From what he was told by Barb he was under the impression that Luke was over at a friends house. He didn't think anything of it. Until 5:23 am Sunday, March the Third, 1998. When he woke and got dressed the fastest he had ever done. He was out of the house and on his way to Dan Miller's -- where Luke was staying the night -- to see if they knew where he was. He knew that they would never hurt Luke, they loved him as much as John and Barbra did. He got over there and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The breeze blew through his clean cut hair and the scent of Death and Evil filled the air. All he could do was slow down from his run, lean down to his knee and cry. He didn't know what else to do. His only child was missing.  
  
After two weeks of searching for Luke, John decided to see if the FBI could help bring the son of a bitch who kidnapped his child in and he could take him from there, but when he called, they said nothing. All they told him was that they'd send a task force to help, and that he should -- as a police officer -- know that not all missing persons are found. He solemnly nodded and hung up the pinkish blue phone. His hand was shaking and his eyes darting in fear and pain. He was anxious to have his son back, take him fishing and hunting like any normal father would, be with him and show him how to be a man. Barbra came up and wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. She was as worried as he was. Their only child...missing for two weeks with no ransom call or notes...it was very frightening. He just wanted things to be back to normal...damnit he wanted the man who took his child dead. He didn't care much for the jury or trial, no, he was gonna take care of the fucker the moment he got his hands on him and he was gonna make him feel the pain that he felt at that very moment. See how he liked it. And he knew it was wrong, but that didn't matter one bit. It made him feel a little better just thinking about it and that was all that really mattered, to him anyway.  
  
When the task force arrived he met with Special Agent Monica Reyes. She was off her normal -- she was an investigator for Ritualistic and Satanic Cult Crimes -- but she was glad to take this case...she had a good feeling that Luke could be found. She could tell the moment that she got there that John was not like most men she'd run into. He was truly worried for his son and he wanted him back, no matter the cost or risk involved. She had never seen that in anyone she'd worked with before. He was very tenacious and didn't care about himself at all. He was always nice to her, too. When they did finally find Luke, after an over all nation wide search of six weeks...it hit John like a ton of lead. His whole mind blurred and everything once again began to move in a slow animated mood. He couldn't breath. His body was limp and his hands started to tremble. His mind raced with a million questions and he was too scared to move. Monica came over to him, but she seemed to be moving in an overly slow manner. He hair blew in the wind, setting off her eyes and bangs, her coat exposing her revealing blouse for that day, and her cold expression that he knew she had been feeling the same dread and fear for him. He wanted to just cry. He couldn't stand it. His own child was dead. Blood covered the area around his head and he looked into Monica's eyes and they said he was gone. He walked away and punched a tree. His finger cracked and one snapped. She just watched and walked over and held the broken fingers in her hand, almost as if she was holding a small child. She wasn't sure why, but she felt for this man. She wanted to make things better, but she really didn't know how. But she kissed his hand and hugged him like she was married to him and it was nothing. He did the same. Upon drawing back their eyes locked and there was a brief moment of bliss and ignorance to the crime scene and significant others. She was single and he knew that and he was married and she knew that herself. It would be wrong for them to even think about anything other then being friends.  
  
A couple of weeks later while he was at work, his wife was killed. He came home and found her corpse with a knife in her back. He screamed and damned everyone in the world to Hell...but Monica Reyes who was still in town. He tried to look at her dead...lifeless body, but he couldn't. His Soul refused to let him. He slide down the wall by the refrigerator and cried. Her blood covered his blue suit and hands, but he didn't give a damn. He didn't care what the hell anyone thought. He was too depressed...numb to care. It was like everything that he'd come to know in his life had just been rapidly taken away from him. The two things that meant more to him then his own life...were taken away and he was left with nothing. In an act of desperation he called Monica. He didn't understand why, and he didn't really think about why. He had her take him out to the local cafe and they shared a apple pie -- his favorite as well as hers -- and talked about things. Time seemed to get away from him like it never had in his life. Monica was...just so...amazing. She was so beautiful and level headed...she was...his Soul mate and he wanted to tell her that, but she would probably think that it was the stress of losing his wife and son all within about a month and he really didn't mean it...or would she? He couldn't stand to take the risk of doing that, so he just kept his mouth shut and didn't say anything. He was too scared that this woman that he found extremely attractive and smart would say no, and then how could he live with himself? And he always said that it was better to be friends first and then work on the romance and relationship...but why was this one different? Was she his true love? No...couldn't be...but as they talked and talked his mind kept drifting back to that. It was not something he would readily admit...but it was lurking there...and he knew he couldn't fight it too long.  
  
His mind was slung back to the real world when he heard the soft click - click of high heels. He knew right then it wasn't a male that would be his partner, and he could smell the familiar fragrance of flowers and roses that had driven him up and down the walls when he knew her. His heart skipped a beat and he knew it was her. She came in and a smile crossed his sullen face. She smiled back and lightly knocked on the already open door.  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
"Yes, you may."  
  
"Thanks, John. How you been?"  
  
"Good, and yourself, Monica?"  
  
"Thinking about some stuff, but that doesn't really matter, what does is that I'm here to be your partner for this case..."  
  
"Oh, yeah!"  
  
"So what do we got?" she asked, coming over to his desk and leaning over. He grabbed a manila folder and handed it to her. She took it and he came around and stood behind her.  
  
"New York City, found dead in an ally way. No one knows who he is, but a bible was found with him and in his own blood he wrote that 'the end of a thousand years has come, He shall come and seek his wife'. And I am guessing that this is Satanic and that is why I asked for someone from your office, hoping it was you and well, here you are, Monica."  
  
"Sounds interesting. Got any leads?"  
  
"Just that it was guessed to be suicide. Coroner can't really say because the man had his tongue cut out, too. Looks self inflicted, but again...just a speculation. No one can really say in this case." explained John to Monica. They sat down and looked over the pictures. They looked like something that would be found in some sick George Romero or Stephen King movie, but this was real and it was twice as gut churning. Why would someone write such a thing and cut out a man's tongue? John and Monica would soon find out...and then something much more sinister...that neither would expect. 


	3. Chapter Three: Good, Bad, I'm The Guy Wi...

Title: In The End  
  
Author: David William Cooper  
  
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)  
  
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship  
  
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.  
  
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...  
  
Feedback: Please...I love it.  
  
Archive: Just ask.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!  
  
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Good, Bad, I'm The Guy With The Gun  
  
N.Y.P.D Headquarters  
  
New York City  
  
Thursday, December The Twenty Third  
  
Jericho made his was slowly and gloomily to the doors of the twenty-third precinct. He hated going to work so late. It was already eight thirty and to him, eight thirty in the damn morning was too late to go to work. It was like getting laid at four in the morning. Who in the hell does that anymore? Really...the silver metal doors greeted him and Branis as they came up to them after they parked the Ford Mustang that Jericho drove, but allowed Branis to drive it today, since he wasn't in the best of moods. The area was coated with a light fluff of snow and the metal handle was cold against Jericho's warm skin. He shot back for a second, and then opened it. Phones rang, faxes buzzed and people talked as they entered, a normal working day. To his left was his desk, alone and dolor, to his right was the "Pen" as they called it, where they kept all the fucks that they'd cleaned off the street for holding until they could be later processed and directed to where they needed to be in the jail. He made his way to his desk, but was stopped when he saw Maria. He hadn't seen her in over a week and he was getting worried that she might not be all too well.  
  
Maria was a two cent whore that had the serious hots out for Jericho. And he had the hots for her, but he always saw it wrong to date a Police Informant, as she liked to think of herself as. She was always helping him track down drugs and gun sales, and that was enough to merit her a place as a Police Informant. And in return for her service, Jericho would let her spend the night at his place or give her a share of the Pot and Blow that he'd collected on the busts. He always got away with it, and no one ever asked questions, since it was well known around there that you don't fuck with Jericho Cane. You did and you were either in Intensive Care or dead. Again, this was only since his old friend was killed by Rondell and he never forgave himself for letting him kill his brother. It was a thing that most cops in the area knew...and with New Year's coming...he was in an even worse mood then he normally was in. And as a rule of thumb, you don't fuck with him when he was in a bad mood. He sat down and twirled in his chair, and waited for Maria to come over and see him. Her six inch stiletto's made Jericho a little hot -- and the mini skirt she was wearing wasn't helping the matters much. She knew what he liked...and she knew how to turn him on. It didn't take too much to do that...especially when he was in a good mood.  
  
"Hey Jerry."  
  
"Hey Love."  
  
"How's life?" she asked, sitting down.  
  
"Good...can't really complain, how about yourself?"  
  
"I'm okay, business is doing alright, but then again it is the slow time of the year and I won't get too much clientele around. Most are either too lazy or have to be with family outta state, but I do get the occasional drifter and I am making it. Cold as hell, though."  
  
"I can imagine."  
  
"Oh...yeah..." said Branis...trying to force himself to avoid getting a hard on from this bitch. And it was hard...really, really, really hard. And her breasts didn't help much either...the way they just sat there...for him to see...damn he wanted to fuck this woman and do it hard.  
  
"Branis...could you leave us? This is a personal matter between me and Maria." said Jericho, knowing exactly what Branis meant when he said 'oh...yeah'...it wasn't too hard to tell with him as it was. His fuckin motto was "If it has tits or tires...I'm in love!". He even had a shirt that bragged that. It was sickening to Jericho because he was the kind of guy that didn't really give a damn about women much more. He would screw one if she was up for it, but he didn't invite unless it was asked for. And he never liked to go "lookin for the drunkest skirt in town". And there was plenty of them around. Hell, most of New York City was just that, drunk half-assed skirts who came from abused homes and drunken husbands that needed the cash so they worked as whores in the main streets and downtown. The idea bothered Jericho...some...but not enough to do anything about it unless Maria or one of her "sisters" were raped and then it was personal and the person that raped the woman would end up in the trash can the next morning.  
  
"Sorry about that, what's bugging you?"  
  
"My friend...he...he is dead."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Davis. They found him in the ally way. Tongue cut out. All bloody. Somethin bout end of a thousand years has come...Jericho...I"m scared! They didn't even know it was him! I had to go in an ID him! Damnit! And it's a couple days till Christmas and I was gonna...oh I am sorry for being such a bitch, but he was just a close friend." she said, starting to cry. He didn't like that. It made him feel bad when he saw a woman that he cared for crying and he had to do something about it, so he hugged her.  
  
"It'll be okay. Okay? I'll check it out, just me, and I will tell you what I find as soon as I find it, okay?" he said, reassuring her.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Welcome." said Jericho, sighing and grabbing his coat. He walked out of the office and to his car, not saying a word to anyone. He didn't have to. As soon as he got in his car, he headed off to go see Max. And Max was gonna tell him what he needed to know, or Max was going to end up with a little extra blood on his floor.  
  
Main Street Ally  
  
New York City  
  
Thursday, December The Twenty Third  
  
John and Monica pulled up to the crime scene and got out of their rental car. Some of the blood was still left and the familiar yellow crime scene tape was dressed around the area where the body was. It was evident that the officers who had to take care of his really didn't give a damn and it was on the lower priority list. The white outline of the victim painted the black pavement. Some of the snow that had fallen earlier could be seen off in the corner in small piles of brown and black and white mush. The smell of Death was strong and Monica held back for a moment. She wasn't all to willing to just dive in. John looked at her caringly and then went over and knelt down and touched the blood with his hand, and then quickly remembered that he needed a latex glove and headed back to the car to get it. Monica just stood there...looking at the spot where the man was. In all her years as a Ritualistic Crime Investigator she'd never seen such a horrid crime. She was over come by the urge to vomit, but she fought it off and watched as John went back to the crime scene.  
  
When he got back to the crime scene he motioned for Monica to join him...and she did...slowly making sure she was ready and wasn't gonna just throw up all over and ruin the scene. She grabbed his hand and squeezed a little, and he turned to look at her, with once again, all too caring eyes. It was as if he wanted to say something to her, but couldn't -- again -- because he was too damn scared of rejection. She smiled and they went back to working. She knelt down next to him and waved her hand around before finally saying something.  
  
"Looks like someone shot him. But it's hard to say, because there is no sign of gunpowder on the ground, and the way this damn scene looks it could be on the 'Worst Scene's For Crimes'...I mean, they did a shit-worth job on this. They left so much to be found and ruined by the damn snow." said Monica.  
  
"Your right...but what about this?" said Doggett, approaching the writing that was on the wall. It was written in blood and could be clearly read. John looked at Monica, with questioning eyes, as she was the Religion Expert and he was just an agent who went to church on Sunday and prayed for his life everyday before work.  
  
"What's this thousand years shit?"  
  
"Satan. It is foretold that every one thousand years he will come to Earth to seek his love who is reincarnated and sent to Earth to be with him and usher us into the new Age of Hell. Unless a lone agent of Light or Angel can stop it. But he or she must be pure of Heart and Soul and must do it before the clock strikes midnight on New Years Day. If not, the world will come to an end as we know it and it will be Satan's rule. The End of Days." said Monica, leaning to her side and back. John looked at her with frightful eyes, not sure whether to ask if she was okay or if she was right. It was some seriously scary shit she just explained to him. He didn't like the sound of it and a fear washed over him.  
  
"Uh huh. And this man believed that?" asked John, forcing himself to remain calm and not show that he was frightened.  
  
"I would assume so..." said Monica, listening to the car that was passing by. It stopped and a man got out. He was rough and rugged looking, as if he hadn't shaved in weeks, had short black hair and stone eyes. His arms were those of a man who spent hours in the gym and was used to being in fights. He carried a gun on his hip and she guessed he was a police officer.  
  
"Names Monica. You are?"  
  
"Jericho Cane. NYPD. I was asked to come here for a close friend. What are you doing here?"  
  
"We are FBI." said John, walking over and shaking Cane's hand. Jericho's shake was solid as his look. Monica moved out of his way and let him take a look at the wall covered in blood. He looked back and sighed.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"We don't know, for sure...yet."  
  
"Can't be good."  
  
"No sir, it can't. And I have a very bad feeling that soon enough we will find out what the man who wrote that meant...I have this bad, bad, bad feeling..." said Monica walking over to stand next to Jericho and John who were entranced by the wall...the End of Days was coming and it would take no prisoners. 


	4. Chapter Four: I Wake In Pain

Title: In The End  
  
Author: David William Cooper  
  
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)  
  
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship  
  
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.  
  
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...  
  
Feedback: Please...I love it.  
  
Archive: Just ask.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!  
  
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***  
  
. Chapter Four  
  
I Wake In Pain  
  
  
  
Marcy's Tavern  
  
Downtown New York City  
  
Thursday, December The Twenty Third  
  
Bill Andersen watched as people came and gone from the bar. He was alone, as always. And when he did try and pick someone up...they usually turned him down. He hated the way that women could so easily tease and tantalize a man and then leave him for someone else and then do the same for the guy that she'd left him for. It was fucking bullshit. In his eyes, anyway. It seemed so unfair. Like it was cheating at the Game of Love. Why? Because when someone is in Love they don't really think too much and then they will do whatever she wants and then she plays him...uses him and then leaves him out on the street to fend for himself -- hurt and broken -- to be with yet another man that she can fuck and screw off of and then do the exact same thing to him! It was like a law that only a woman could do that -- and get away with it -- where if a man did it...it was considered Adultery and he would have charges pressed against him. And no chance he was gonna get stuck with that, so he was careful when he went out to the bar to pick up a chick.  
  
His girlfriend left him after two years of going out. She said he wasn't all that good in bed, and that she needed better. Another thing that he hated. Women were so hard to please in bed! Why? All a woman has to do to a man is touch him and he is off like a rocket! Where a woman has to be had and found...and that is just so sexist. He sighed as the thought of these things and sipped his beer. He'd been there since noon and here it was nine at night and not a damn babe came to see him...and stayed more then five minutes. And the fact that he wasn't all that drunk was a surprise. He'd only had about three drink in the time we was there. He usually had way more then that and then he would be drunk off his ass. Always look better at closing time, as they always said and he was one of the guys who knew that quote to be true. He like closing time and that is what he always would shoot for. What the hell could be do that would merit him anything? And as he liked to say...it always starts with one thing...and he don't know why. He looked down at his watch again, as if he was waiting for someone to arrive...which he was...some drunk skirt that he could have and would be pleased with his performance and not have to worry about her leaving him, because she was as drunk and him and in the end...just don't matter. Wake up to a Coyote Ugly. He'd done that a few times, but that was back when he was young...he was twenty nine now and more mature and had better taste in women. Those who didn't fuck him or look like they would were always a good way to get off and have some good ol' fun.  
  
For once in his worthless life he needed to get on and do something. He had an odd feeling that with the close of the millennium his life would be better, but that was just a feeling and he'd had a lot of them over the years. He once thought that he was gonna meet his dream girl...and she turned out to much more then just a girl that he liked...she had a dirty little secret that -- if he'd known sooner he might have kept with her, but to just spring it on him was something that threw him away -- that she was a man. She'd had a sex change. It freaked him out and he threw her out. They are still friends, but that was always a scary thing for him, falling for another guy...even if he was now a she. His friends would never let him live that down. Then there was the girl that his pal Andy set him up with...she turned out to be a whore. Not exactly the normal kind, but more like an escort. He didn't mind that too much, but he wanted a single sex partner relationship and in the end that was not what he needed to know -- that the woman he was seeing was off fucking other guys while he was home watching some stupid infomercial from Miss Cleo. And that was going overly low. Miss Cleo was a whole reason for his life sucking. But that was thrown out like yesterdays garbage when he found that even Miss Cleo was not enough to blame all his problems in life for. He just wanted to know that there was someone that could be blamed, but that wasn't the answer and he knew it, and he didn't feel a single bit bad in blaming others.  
  
She hated her life. She felt so alone and so lost without someone to hold her close and make sure that she was okay and that nothing would ever happen to her. That was part of the reason that she was a bar hopper. She needed to find someone, and she thought that maybe one of the drunk guys would be her true love, and it wouldn't be so odd, since her friend Julia had run into her Dream Man at a bar. In a way she was hoping that she would have the same Blind Luck. And maybe she would. Maybe not. She had no idea and she wasn't about to really go into a guilt trip over it. Allison was her own woman and she had no time for guilt trips. It was a thing of the past. And starting today she was gonna be better. She saw a lonely looking guy at the bar, and over the last hour or so debated whether she should go over and say hello or not. He just seemed so alone...lost and with no one in life...but what if he was a rapist? What is he was an ex-sex offender? Was she really ready to take that gamble? It wasn't like she hadn't done something like that before, no. She'd once sat down and talked to an ex serial killer who had been released on good behavior. That scared the hell out of her once she found out what he was and she stopped seeing him. She also moved away and came to New York. She'd only been there about two years and that wasn't no reason that she couldn't be hip and cool, too. That was another flaw in her character that most of her friends said. She was too interested in having a man in her life and being down with the newest style that she wasn't listening to who she really was.  
  
When she first came to New York City from Jackson, New Jersey she was afraid to be in such a big city, but she quickly found that it wasn't all that big and she didn't really have to be too afraid, since she could get a CCP and carry a small handgun -- just in case...and she liked that comfort. She liked knowing that if anything went down and she was raped or mugged she could pull the gun and shot the fucker. She felt better knowing that. She was always into the fact that being safe came at some cost and the cost of a man's life was one that she really didn't mind. She finally decided that if she didn't take the chance that she may be spending this Christmas alone. And she didn't want to do that again. It was only a couple of days away and she really hated the idea of it. It scared her a lot to be alone with no one to be with. Hold her. Tell her that things would be just fine and that there was always an answer to the things that plagued her mind and that she was a special person. She needed that. She wanted it. She desired it and without she felt limp and numb. Not a person, but a thing that people could look at and say "Heh." to. And that was a feeling that she also hated, having been used as many time as she was. So she got up and cautiously made her way over to Bill who was now just getting his fourth beer of the night.  
  
"Hey you." she said, trying to sound sexy.  
  
"Hey." he said in a glum reply that sounded more like a grunt then a hey.  
  
"How you doing?"  
  
"I'm good, yourself?"  
  
"I'm good too." she said, smiling and drinking some of her Vodka. Bill smiled at her and she sensed that there was some sparks, but she wasn't sure how many, just yet. Soon enough she would and she would know if she wanted to take this guy out and have some fun...but no sleep with him...yet.  
  
"Good to know, so you lookin for someone to talk to or do I look like the kind of guy you wanna take home to mom?"  
  
"Oh...lookin for someone to talk to...maybe more. Depends on the guy who I am talkin to and if he is nice." she said.  
  
"Oh, well...I'm just a lone man looking for someone to have some fun with...maybe get to know her better, if she'd let me." he said, sipping his beer.  
  
"Sounds like we have a few things in common...Mr...?"  
  
"Andersen. Bill Andersen." he replied.  
  
"Allison, but my friends call my Ally Cat. Pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Same. Wanna go to my place? Not that I would try anything, but ya know...it'd be nice and I had some really good wine..." he said, trailing off. He didn't want to make her feel like he was gonna fuck her and then leave, but he felt that was how it was coming out. And he really was that kind of guy. At all.  
  
"Sure." she said, getting her coat and smiling. Within a few mintues they were off and on the way to his place.  
  
McGee's Motel  
  
I 29 South Manhattan, New York City  
  
Thursday, December The Twenty Third  
  
John finished buttoning his shirt back up and looked himself in the mirror. He examined his crude facial features and grinned to himself. After what he just got done doing...he had a right to be happy and grinning. He didn't really want to have sex with Monica, but the fact that she was there...it was late...he looked over at the clock aside the bed. It's reddish colored numbers burned a 11:21 PM into his eyes. He hadn't noticed that he'd spent that much time with her, considering they'd started around 10:30, and that was after a couple of minutes just talking. She was great though. She was one of the best he'd ever done. Her firm breasts...soft skin...silk - like lips...she was like a sweet tart and cake all in one, and he really liked that in a woman. She was his ideal woman. And he knew it. It wasn't like he was married anymore, after all his wife had been murdered about a year ago and as cruel as it may seem he had to move on and his life moving again. Start dating again. And as it stood right now, Monica Reyes was the best he was gonna get and it felt so damn right. He saw how that cop -- Jericho Cane -- had been looking at her and that made him a little uneasy, but after the night they'd just shared...he wasn't all that worried. He had no reason to be, and it was clear that she had feelings for him. Very clear. You don't come into a guys room at 10:30 in the night to talk and then have sex with him if you didn't have some feelings for him or you were a fucking whore or just plain drunk off your ass. And as far as he could tell...she was not any of those...but she did have some feelings for him.  
  
The way she was slow and passionate added to his idealism that she liked him. And she was surprisingly gentle on him...as if he was a toy that she'd found and didn't want to make all too trite too fast. And he really liked that because to him...slow and passionate sex was a sure sign that there was something more then just a crush. There was love. He smiled over at her, as she buttoned up her silk blouse and threw her shoes back on. She looked so damn beautiful in the dark light with a hint of light shining into the room from the hallway. She just smiled back and walked over, threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him gently on the cheek and walked back over. God was she beautiful. And it wasn't a damn thing he'd rather be doing right now then be with her. Her bangs covered her eyes and she seemed to be hiding and that was another turn on for John. Bangs. Women with bangs were cute and sexy as hell at the same time, and damnit, Monica had it all. The phone rang and she walked over, more like floated over in John's eyes...and answered in her sex voice that was yet another things that made him ever so hot.  
  
"Monica Reyes...yes...okay...thank you Mr. Cane. We will be there as soon as we can." she said, hanging up and looked to John.  
  
"Jericho?"  
  
"Yes. And they have another body." 


	5. Chapter Four: It Starts With One Thing

Title: In The End  
  
Author: David William Cooper  
  
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)  
  
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship  
  
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.  
  
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...  
  
Feedback: Please...I love it.  
  
Archive: Just ask.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!  
  
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***  
  
  
  
Chapter Five  
  
It Starts With One Thing  
  
Near Marcy's Tavern  
  
Downtown New York City  
  
Friday, December The Twenty Fourth  
  
By the time that Agents Doggett and Reyes arrived at the crime scene...Jericho had determined the murder weapon and cause of death. Due to the fresh blanket of snow that coated the scene like a small child would cover himself with a blanket, it was hard to see much. He stood up when he saw them coming closer and offered his hand to Doggett. He took it and shook.  
  
"Good seeing you again, but not under these circumstances."  
  
"Ditto." said Agent Doggett, walking next to him and brushing some white fluff from his head. He shivered and saw that Monica had forgotten here jacket and gave her his. He smiled at her and she hugged it close to her and pecked at his red cheek.  
  
"What do we have, Sir?" asked Monica, checkin the area out to see if the killer had left any clues.  
  
"Just this." said Jericho, holding up what looked like a Ladies Compact. Monica took it, and slipped it into a Evidence Baggie.  
  
"That's...odd."  
  
"Yes, it is. First time I have ever found one of these at the crime scene. With a male. I think we have a match on him, but it is hard to say since most of his face was ripped off and his eyes are...um...over there, we think, if you'd like to go and see, Miss Reyes. Not gonna stop ya unless you'd like me to stand here and say that it is a bad idea, but I won't." he explained as he looked over to the spot where the eyes were located.  
  
"Um...no thanks." said Monica, almost throwing up.  
  
"And to think...on Christmas Eve..." said Jericho, sighing and looking at the man's dead body in disbelief. He hated to think that someone could do such a evil thing on such a day. Even a dirty bastard like him had some morals. And to kill a man or woman on Christmas Eve was like killing a child that was well under age. Not that there was an age that killing would be a good idea. No. But usually they had to be at least eighteen before they would be left as "just another murder" there in New York, but someone who was just a small child...around six or seven...that was an speak able crime that no damn person could ever commit and get away with. And live. In Cane's eyes. He didn't give a flying fuck who the hell you were...you dare lay a hand on a child...and kill them or molest them...your ass wasn't going too far. At all. Your next stop would be the Morgue. That was a vow that every cop in New York would agree with. You never ever touch a child.  
  
Jericho remembered the man hunt for the six year old girl that went missing in the summer of '97...and wasn't found until early last year. It began like any Missing Persons case that came across a officers desk. Another one. It was blown off until someone saw that it was a six year old. That was when they had ever cop in the department looking for this girl. Jericho was caught in the middle of the whole damn thing. They had searched far and wide...tall grass brushed against his clean shaven face on that evening. His eyes were trained on something that looked like a bloody rock that was in the field. He drew his gun and made his way slowly to the rock. As he drew closer he could clearly see that this was no damn rock, this was the child that they had been looking for. She was dead. Her body was cold and the scene looked like that of an old cop movie where the bad guy killed the victim and ran away, no way of really saying that he didn't plant it to look like this, Jericho had an insider that had once told him that most of the "un-meditated" crimes were Pre Meditated and just needed a really good and careful eye to see that. As soon as he was able to say that it was in fact the girl that they were looking for he called over backup and waited for everyone to get there and get the body out of there. The medic's rush over and pulled her cold corpse on to a stretcher and she was airlifted out of there. She was pronounced at two thirty in the morning. A cold surge ran through his body and he wondered what he would do if she was his daughter. How would he feel? What could he tell the poor family of this girl?  
  
This was one of the worst crimes he'd seen since that unforsaken event. It was one that would haunt him for the rest of his Hell driven life. Why didn't he wanna let it go? What the fuck did he really care? She wasn't his damn daughter. And this man...he had no fucking connection to him aside from the fact that he was lead investigator on the case. So why then, did he care so much about him? Why? He didn't know these answers...and deep down...he really didn't want to know. He always thought that the less he knew, the better of he was. He didn't know so he couldn't lie. One thing that had saved his ass once or twice over the years. And he would always stick to it. That cold feeling in his stomach that begged for him to stop and think about what he was looking at almost reminded him of the feeling that he'd felt when his partner was shot down by Rondell. Or maybe it was the fact that this was Christmas Eve...and even though his would be spent alone like so many others...he felt almost bad because this guy might have had someone in his life. That was it. And it would sustain him for awhile. And it did. Until she showed up. She was dressed in what seemed to be a skin tight black dress that she -- in both Doggett and Cane's opinons -- filled out quite well. She wore six inch stiletto heels and you could smell her strong perfume from a mile away. Monica just sighed and walked over to greet the woman in the black dress.  
  
"Hi, I'm Monica Reyes...and I'm with the FBI. You are?"  
  
"Allison." she said.  
  
"Nice to meet you, know when down here? Maybe you can help us --"  
  
"Sorry, all I know is that the end of a thousand years have come." she quiped. Jericho and John cocked thier heads at the phrase she had just spoken in her soft and heavnly, but at the same time almost a demonic seductive tone. The words sounded quite familer, but they weren't clicking with the boys.  
  
"You mean the End of Days?" asked Monica.  
  
"Yeah. Satan will be released from his prison of a thousand years and he shall come and seek the one woman that he is allowed to have. And once he finds her she will be taken to Hell with him and the End of Days will be set in motion. The time limit is exactly midnight. That deadline isn't met...it's End of Days. Either way you happen to look at it, Miss Reyes, your fucked."  
  
"Good point, unless we can stop Him?"  
  
"Who ever said that Satan was a man? Or a woman? How can you say that Satan is either? Maybe Satan is a sexless being like God. Ever think of that? It is a well known fact that in many Eastern cultures they believe that the Soul is a Sexless being that once it reaches it's enlightenment is granted the ability to go into Heaven." Allison explained while Jericho and Doggett tried to figure out where in the hell they'd seen or heard this before. Just wasn't coming to them.  
  
"Yes, this is true, but what says that It isn't? I mean, It may just be like that, but what if the Being has a presigned sex? And it can go freely between that sex? Like a man to a man to another?" asked Monica.  
  
"Then it wouldn't be Satan. It would be Azael."  
  
"Azael?"  
  
"Yes, it is spoken of in the prophecy of an Angel that fell from the Heaven's and to Earth. It was damned to walk the Earth as a person, but not as just anyone, this is where the idea of reincarnation came from...but Azrael can change sex and age. It body hops in a sense, from one person to another. It may also seek to take a person or persons and hop into anyone but those they...he...she...it...seeks."  
  
"Interesting."  
  
"Yes." said John, forcing himself to follow what was being said and not look at Allison's well rounded figure. Jericho was the same way. Monica shifted her weight and continued on with her conversation.  
  
"Did you ever take Religion in college?"  
  
"Yes, I majored in it."  
  
"I majored in it in college and then Satanic Ritualistical Crime in the academy." replied Monica.  
  
"So you know about Azrael?"  
  
"Yes. He is the Angel of Death. He is also a sheep demon. He was one of the Fallen."  
  
"Right!"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Welcome, I always enjoyed an intelligant conversation. What else do you know about this crime?"  
  
"Just that it is a male and we found a ladies compact...and unless this guy is a crossdresser or transvestite, I don't think it's his." she laughed.  
  
"I agree. Maybe I can help?"  
  
"I don't know, we are working this with Officer Cane over there. Have to ask him, I am not allowed to grant permission to a civillian to initate anything in an intense crime scene or serial murder spree. Not that this is a serial killer we are looking at, but at this point all I can say is that we are dealing with a person in thier twenties or thirties...has a hate for both men and woman, maybe sexual anger...could be Bi-Sexual and had been hurt horribly by both sexes...or had a bad father that drove him to the psychosis. It could be anything. We really can't say, just yet.  
  
Now if it was a string of just males or just females we could pretty much narrow down our search for a man or a woman, but since it is both sexes, it is going to be a little on the hard side. But with the help of Jericho's department my partner and I, the man you see over there with Mr. Cane, hope to put this to an end or at least catch him or her before they kill again. And I am hoping quickly. Since it is Christmas Eve. I don't know that anyone could even do this. So inhumane. So...damn...uh...what is the word I am looking for?"  
  
"Haunting to think that a human could do such an act?"  
  
"Yes, that is it!"  
  
"Yes...we are hoping to bring this asshole to justice." said Jericho, finally regaining his composure. He was so not used to speaking with a woman this beautiful, not that she was any better looking then any of the whore's he knew...not that she was even really dressed like that, but something about her made him all googoo. He just didn't know what and he could see that Mr. Doggett was the same. And it also seemed that to some extent that Monica was starting to get a little...weird around this woman. Was Monica lesbian or Bi? He didn't think so, and if that was the case, then why the hell were the three of them so...ditzy about this bitch? She must be one of those people that you can get dizzy just talking to.  
  
"Yes. We will, and thank you ma'am but we really don't need your help, but if we do we will give you a call." said John. And they didn't need anyones help. The case was sent off and returned as a gang murder and nothing important at all. That was until the Twenty - Eighth. Thats when things started to get really weird. And they would need Allison's help. Bad. 


End file.
